


Excerpts from books I'll never write

by anerdnamedalex



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anerdnamedalex/pseuds/anerdnamedalex
Summary: I come up with really cool scenes for books but can't ever dedicate myself to writing a book lmao





	Excerpts from books I'll never write

"I'm just really fucking tired." He sighed, running his hands over his face. My lip trembled, and my hands shook. 

"And you think I'm not?" I wanted to scream, but my voice only managed a whisper, coarse and frail. "Do you think I haven't put all my energy, all my soul into us?" 

"I'm not tired of us, or you." He snapped and then sighed again. I turned my face towards the ground, and scrunched my face, willing the tears not to spill, but of course, they didn't listen to me. Nobody, not even my own tears fucking listen to me. I heard a sharp metallic scrape and looked up, he was lighting a cigarette, something he hadn't done since we started dating, and I let him know how much I wanted him to be around for a while. 

"I'm just, so fucking tired of this. Of us hurting each other, and then pretending to be okay with it, I'm tired of the petty lies, I'm tired of the drama. I just want us, the way we used to be." He placed the burning cigarette in his mouth. I tried not to stare at the beautiful curve of his mouth, and the way the smoke curled upwards towards his fluttery lashes. 

"So what do you want from me?" I asked, my face, my body, my voice stoic and hard. I almost wanted to sob, to sound pathetic, to make him hurt for hurting me. He blew smoke out and looked at me with eyes that were wistful, and cold. 

"I want you to stop with this manipulative bullshit, and just..... god what do you want me to say? I want you to love me the way you did before? I want you to look at me the way you used to?" He clenched his jaw around the red bullseye in his mouth and my heart clenched with it. 

"I still look at you like you hung the fucking stars in the sky." I accused him, throwing my words at him like daggers, I wanted them to cut and to sting. "But you never notice that anymore. You only want me to admire the constellations made from your goddamn stars." I stood and he looked at me, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed, and his eyes simmering dangerously close to a flame. 

"No, you only want me to notice you looking at me, because when I turn back to admire my fucking stars, you've already gone on to look at some other poor sucker, and you just leave me looking at my own hard work by myself, looking like a fool." He stood with me, and our bodies tensed, full of energy, ready to strike with nowhere to go. He dropped the butt to the ground, stomping out the red light under his foot. He stood against me, and I stood to him, my face turned upwards, basking in his fury. He grabbed my jaw, and on command, my toes curled and my lips met his in a crashing battle, of Roman soldiers on the battlefield, swords clashing, shields striking and bows breaking. He trembled against me, and I stood strong, against him. 

"Please don't leave." He begged, placing his forehead against mine. My arms snaked around his back, like two chains holding him in, dragging him down. 

"Why?" I asked, my voice dripping with insecurity, desperation and power. 

"Because I'd rather have somebody notice my stars than somebody to notice me." He said and I grinned, for I had finally won, and the boy who had hung stars in the sky for me, would now build me planets if I now asked him. The boy with cigarette breath would be busy now, for I had grown insatiable and stars were no longer enough to satisfy me.


End file.
